


For the want of a fruit cup

by sloganeer



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-14
Updated: 2003-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:19:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't mock my pineapple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the want of a fruit cup

**Author's Note:**

> For ljuser=pearl_o. Prompt: the office, pineapple. Thanks to Sports Illustrated for all their covers online going back to 1954.

"Did you get my fruit cup?"

"Can I get through the door, Casey? I just pack muled my way up the stairs with your lunch. Did you know the elevator is shut down?" Dan dropped the bags on the table, on a stack of 1961 Sports Illustrateds. "How long was I gone?" he asked, holding up the September Bart Starr cover.

"So long, Dan, that time has actually folded back on itself."

"Man. You think my roast beef sandwich is still any good?"

"Fruit cup?"

"I got your damn fruit cup."

He threw it at Casey, followed by a ham sandwich, a cookie, and a carton of milk.

"Should we go find some cheerleaders to sit with?"

"Only if you want them to laugh at your fruit cup."

"Don't mock my pineapple."

"Hey, it was the cheerleaders." Casey's mouth was already full, so he raised an eyebrow instead. "I don't get any points for buying it and carrying it up the stairs for you?"

Casey shrugged. Dan scoffed.

"I'll just sit over here with Bart at the loser's table, thank you very much."

He grabbed the remote from under a pile of fax paper, and turned up the volume on the TV. Casey waited for the next commercial to speak.

"You want my cookie?"

-

Casey hid out in editing with Jeremy until fifteen minutes before the show. Dan watched them through the window, talking close, planning something. He went back to the office and the couch. Casey would find him when he found him.

His tie was crooked when he did, and Dan wondered if Casey did that on the walk back from wardrobe just to make Dan fix it. More suspicious, however, was the hand Casey kept behind his back.

"What are you--"

"It's a pineapple." Casey held it out in front of him, then set it on that same stack of Sports Illustrateds when it was clear Dan wasn't getting up to take it.

"That's for me?" Casey nodded. "You really shouldn't have."

"Eh, I just sent Elliott down to the Korean on the corner."

"Oh, that's love, Case."

"I give up." He threw his hands up and turned away from Dan. "I don't even know why we're fighting. Over fruit, Danny?"

"We're not fighting," Dan laughed.

"What?" Casey dropped his arms. "We're not fighting. Huh." He dropped next to the couch next to Dan. "I thought we were fighting. Do you think maybe we spend too much time together?"

"There's a pineapple on my desk, Casey. I don't know anything anymore."

"But you knew we weren't fighting."

"Yeah."

"OK."

Dana's voice cut in over the P.A. system. "Dan, Casey. Get your butts in my studio."

With matching sighs, they pushed off the couch and started the walk through the newsroom.

"So, now that you know we're not fighting..."

"Yes, Dan?"

"Could you explain the damn fruit cup?"

"Oh. Charlie's doing a science project. The four food groups. I promised him I'd eat more fruit."

"And the pineapple?"

"The pineapple, Dan?" Casey stopped them at the control room door, turning back to smile at Dan. "The pineapple just made me laugh."


End file.
